We Danced
by Stormcloudishone
Summary: Auror Harry Potter stumbles across an old nemesis while visiting Hogwarts; this is my first Drarry fic ever, so please review and tell me how I did! It's just a little fluff to dip my toe in the pond, as it were. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_(Okay, this is my first attempt at writing a Drarry fic. Thanks to Cheryl Dyson, and a couple other amazing people like dracosoftie and Digitallace, I've fallen in love with the whole Drarry scene and decided to finally try my hand at writing my own stories. I was listening to my 500+ song library on shuffle the other day, and this song came on that oddly enough inspired a fluffy little fic for me to try and write. It's post 7__th__ book, epilogue compliant to some degree. Please, please, please, please, please review! I need all the help I can get here!)_

"I don't remember the Three Broomsticks ever being this crowded when I was in school." The fires were roaring inside the bustling little business to fight the chill in the wintery air outside, but with students and faculty jammed into every chair, it was easy to see how warm and cozy could become thick and heavy all too quickly. Already there were students deserting their chairs to flee into the cool air, taking advantage of every last minute of their trip to Hogsmeade before it was time to trek back up to the castle.

Harry took a swallow from the Butterbeer in front of him and glanced to the side at his son, watching him as he glanced around the room for what seemed like the hundredth time. Whoever his son was looking for had obviously not appeared in the thirty seconds since his last scan, and a faint shadow of disappointment flickered through the boy's eyes before he banished it to look up at his father. With James off chasing his friends in the snow, barely any of the noise in the room was coming from them, but that suited the duo just fine.

"Ever since the new owner started making changes, it's always this crowded," Albus announced after a moment, spinning his spoon quietly between his fingers. "The food's better, and it's bigger. Everyone loves it." Harry glanced around himself, not for the first time, and had to admit that there seemed to be something brighter about the place. It was more student friendly, and the selection on the menu certainly had grown. He wondered briefly who the new owner was, but the thought escaped him when he saw his younger son suddenly take interest in something – or someone – across the room.

Subtly, Harry glanced over, spotting Lily first as she trailed inside with a small gaggle of her first-year friends. He quickly determined that his sister had not been what had caught Albus' attention, but the platinum blonde hair of fellow third-year Scorpius Malfoy. Much like Albus was physically similar to his father, Scorpius seemed to embody Draco Malfoy perfectly, down to the slightly cool gaze that swept the room searching for a seat in the crowded room. Harry only saw the other man twice a year, once when they dropped the children off at the Hogwarts Express, and again when they went to pick them up. From a distance, he seemed to be the same.

For the first time, he found himself wondering what his blonde rival was up to at this stage in their lives. He had been curiously absent from the Daily Prophet recently. Not that he had been looking for mention of Malfoy, of all people, but whenever the blonde made the front page, it was hard not to notice if he glanced at it, of course. The last big news, come to think of it, had been the shocking announcement of impending divorce between the former Slytherin Prince and his wife, Astrid, or Atoria. Whatever the bint's name was.

Shaking himself, Harry returned his attention to the present, and realized that his son had been doing some deep thinking of his own, and still seemed to be doing so, and so he had not noticed his father's brief distraction. "How have things been, by the way? No problems with… anyone." It was unfair to suspect the blonde Slytherin standing by the doorway still of misbehaving just because his father had always been a prat.

Albus seemed shaken from his thoughts by the sound of Harry's voice, and there was confusion in his gaze for a moment before he recalled the question. "Oh, fine. Brilliant. I'm still rubbish at Potions, but I… I've been getting some help with it lately." The conversation went uninterrupted by daydreaming from either brunette for the rest of the meal, and they barely noticed as the room gradually emptied, until they were all but left alone.

"You should probably be getting back to the castle." They both stood, a mirror image of one another, aside from their age difference. Harry glanced around, and noted that Scorpius was sitting in the corner, alone, reading a Potions book. He glanced up briefly, gray eyes skimming them both, then returned to the book on the table in front of him. Harry dismissed the quiet boy and stepped out into the cold night air with his son. As if sensing his father's curiosity, Albus answered his question without it having to be asked.

"Scorpius always stays late. He has special permission from Professor McGonagall." Harry frowned. That hardly seemed right at all. But he wouldn't rant about unfair treatment of spoiled pureblood Slytherins in front of his son. He would save that for Mcgonagall tomorrow when he spoke with her.

"Well, nevermind him. I'd better get you back before curfew. Your Defense class is first thing and I'll be watching to make sure you don't sleep through it." He grinned teasingly at his son and got a smile and a small laugh in return.

"You'll be so busy fielding questions you won't be able to watch me. Everyone is always excited when the famous Auror Potter comes to give his special Defense against the Dark Arts lectures." Harry's grin faded slightly, but he just mussed his son's messy black hair fondly and continued walking.

"Dad!" Lily's wail brought him to an abrupt halt as the girl came running toward him, looking frantic. "Dad, I left my bag in the Three Broomsticks. It has my homework in it." Harry sighed mentally, but he knew exactly what his daughter wanted from him, and he smiled soothingly down at her.

"You and Albus run on ahead before you're in trouble for being out here after curfew. I'll get the bag and bring it to you in the morning, all right?" Lily hugged him thankfully and the two siblings raced off back towards Hogwarts, joining the other stragglers that still leaked from the other shops in Hogsmeade. Shaking his head, Harry turned around and headed back to the Three Broomsticks, which reminded him of his puzzling before over Scorpius Malfoy's special treatment.

Curious, he glanced around, then cast a simple Disillusionment charm on himself and snuck over to the window to peek inside. The blonde was still in the corner, reading, but he was looking up far more frequently now, which was odd because the building was clearly empty. There was a soft noise inside that had Harry straining to hear more, and he was rewarded when the sound was repeated. The boy at the table closed his book and got to his feet, but rather than leaving he merely placed his bag on the table and moved deeper into the building. Frustrated, Harry debated, and decided to follow. He could always tell the truth and claim he was merely fetching his daughter's bag, after all, which was completely acceptable, unlike this special Malfoy Hogsmeade exception that continued to irk him each time he thought about it.

Harry slipped inside, feeling the snow on his boots and in his hair begin to melt immediately in the warm room. His robes were protecting his muggle clothes beneath from getting soaked, but it was still rather uncomfortable. But he endured it as he snuck silently deeper into the building, wishing briefly that he hadn't left his invisibility cloak at home. Ginny would have disapproved him bringing it along, though that was hardly enough to persuade him to leave it, considering their current situation. The idea of some student sneaking into his room and stealing it – especially one of his children, since they knew it existed – had been much more to do with it.

Harry came to a sudden stop when he realized he had once again gotten lost in his thoughts and stumbled too close to the young student he had been following. He held his breath as gray eyes swept through him and silently thanked Merlin that his charm held and the boy apparently did not see him. He didn't have long to be grateful, though, before he heard footsteps. Much heavier footsteps than the ones made by Scorpius. An adult male's footsteps.

Harry backed carefully away from the blonde Slytherin child, and was thankful for that fact not a moment later as the approaching person suddenly came into view, shocking Harry speechless. "Father." Scorpius didn't waste much time before closing the distance between himself and the older blonde that had just entered the room. To Harry's increasing surprise, they embraced warmly, something Harry had never really seen from the Slytherin prat before. But considering it had been twenty years or so since he had last really talked to Malfoy, perhaps it wasn't so surprising after all.

"I was hoping you'd stay back to see me tonight, but I wasn't sure." There was a smile on Malfoy's face, one Harry had never seen before. "Rumor has it the Gryffindor Golden Boy is making an appearance again tomorrow." Scorpius nodded, and Harry supposed he should merely brace himself for a vast number of surprises for the rest of the evening, because the boy's words were almost the most shocking thing yet.

"He's going to be lecturing in our Defense classes again. It's different from usual classes. He's doing this for a living. He does it all the time." The wonder in the young blonde's tone had Harry thankful all over again for his undetectable state; he was uncomfortable with the praise and honor heaped on him as an Auror and as the Chosen One even after the war. To have the son of Draco Malfoy doing so made it even worse.

Malfoy chuckled, and Harry was bemused by the sound. Had he ever heard such a light-hearted sound from the man before? Never, it seemed, as he looked back. Around others, Malfoy was always cold and aloof. But it seemed with his son he was a different man entirely. For the first time, Harry looked more closely at his once-rival and found the perfectly tended blonde hair and gray eyes rather gorgeous when paired with the fit body and well-tailored clothes. For a prat, the Slytherin was rather beautiful. Harry quickly tried to shove aside such thoughts. This was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

"Well, you'd better get some sleep or you'll doze right through it and not hear a word he says. Whether you intend to be an Auror yourself or not, I'm sure he'll say at least one thing worth taking note of. You can stay here for the night. I'll take you up to the castle in time for breakfast in the morning." Harry struggled to process the words – it couldn't have possibly been a compliment, from Malfoy? – as Scorpius nodded obediently and headed up the stairs to what was apparently the sleeping quarters for the owner, which was apparently Malfoy. No wonder it had been refurnished, Malfoy could certainly afford it.

Harry turned to leave, his mind whirling, and tripped over a chair, effectively destroying his smooth escape from spying on Malfoy and his son. He struggled to extract himself from the chair, but he heard those footsteps again, and knew when he looked up exactly what he would see. "Potter." A sneer curled the lips that had been smiling mere moments ago. "If you can't tell, we're closed."

Harry got to his feet and brushed himself off, bristling at the blonde's tone. "I'm aware of that. I'm just here to get my… that is, Lily left her bag, and I thought I'd grab it for her so she wouldn't be late getting back." He could have sworn he saw something soften in those piercing gray eyes, but it was gone before he could confirm it.

"Relax, Potter. You don't have to be embarrassed that you left your purse." Malfoy smirked as color tinged Harry's cheeks.

"I told you, my daughter left her stuff here, you arrogant prat!" Malfoy tutted with disapproval at Harry's raised voice, merely infuriating him further. It didn't help that the blonde git was several inches taller, and seemed to be looking down his perfect nose at him.

"Flattery will get you everywhere with me, but insults will not." He hummed softly to himself for a second. "However, for your child's sake, I suppose I can make an exception. No need to punish them for your poor manners." While Harry seethed, Malfoy strolled into the main room and left the brunette no choice but to follow or be left behind. "Any idea what the bag looks like?" he asked as he began to sweep the room, tucking chairs under fully and making sure no bags were hidden underneath or still slung across the backs of chairs as students were wont to do.

"It's red, and it's got her homework in it, so it'll have her name on it." Harry cursed himself for not paying more attention. All he needed was to swipe some other unfortunate student's bag and leave both Lily and the other student stuck in a rather unfortunate situation. They searched the room from opposite sides, until he finally heard a soft sound of triumph from his blonde nemesis.

"I believe this is what you're looking for." Harry glanced up, banging his head on the underside of a table, and was relieved to recognize the bag in Malfoy's grasp. He stood, brushing himself off.

"As much as I hate to say it, thanks, Malfoy." The blonde widened his eyes comically.

"Did you just speak civilly to me? We must mark the calendar." Harry laughed despite himself, and the feigned shock became real on the blonde's face. "And now a sincere laugh. We'll have to make a public service announcement. Auror Potter goes totally insane, behaves kindly to ex-Death Eater." The reminder had the grin fading from Harry's face.

"Whatever. Just hand the bag over and I'll be on my way and you can go back to whatever it is you do here." Malfoy frowned, and Harry almost did the same as some strange emotion flashed briefly over the blonde's face. Had that been… but no.

Malfoy turned away rather than answering, and cast a wordless spell with a flick of his wand that had the chairs silently lifting from their spots under the tables and flipping upside down on the table tops instead. It made the crowded room suddenly more roomy to have more floor space. Malfoy was standing in the largest gap of empty space, the red bag still hanging from one hand. Harry reluctantly crossed the room and held out his hand for it. Those gray eyes flicked from the outstretched hand to Harry's face.

"I'll give it to you on one condition." Harry gaped at the blonde.

"And what would that be?"

A smirk curved those delicious lips, and Harry felt a twinge at the idea even as it settled firmly in his mind. Since when had Malfoy been delicious? Sure, he knew he was into men. It had been the catalyst to bring him to his current 'situation' with Ginny. If something didn't give, he could easily see himself on the same road that Malfoy had apparently already gone down with his own wife. But Malfoy, of all men? The man was probably straight, anyway. He'd been married, too, after all.

"Dance with me." The request had Harry's brain grinding to an immediate halt. Had Malfoy just… Was he joking? That was what this was, a horrible joke the Slytherin was playing on him. Harry shook his head quickly. "Oh, come, Potter, I've seen photos of you at Ministry galas. I know you know how." Malfoy held out his hand, and Harry stared at it for the longest time before he looked up at the blonde's face.

"No tricks?" Those gray eyes darkened, and this time Harry saw the hurt as it flickered quickly through, like lightning through a storm cloud. He reached out and grabbed the offered hand just as it seemed Malfoy was going to pull back. Sparks tingled down his spine at the contact, warm skin to warm skin. His mouth went dry as he looked back up to Malfoy's face, and saw something swirl through those gray eyes that made them look like quicksilver, molten and devastatingly beautiful.

Malfoy didn't give him a chance to back down, quickly closing the space between their bodies until a pale hand splayed at the small of his back, holding them close. Harry's eyes were wide, but he made no move to escape. Malfoy's smirk suddenly looked alluring in the light of the fireplace rather than annoying as it had before. And they began to dance.

It was hard to believe, but there it was. Potter was not only in his new home away from home, but he was actually dancing with him. Draco almost couldn't believe his luck. Clearly Potter was off his game, otherwise he surely would have weaseled his way out of the deal. The red bag that had started it all was on the floor close by, but neither man seemed interested in it anymore. What was happening between them was far more important.

Draco pulled him into the dance, and Potter seemed content to follow his lead, moving gracefully together to a silent song that played only inside their minds. Had he realized for even an instant that buying the Three Broomsticks would put him in direct contact with Potter, he might have done so a lot sooner. With Astoria taken care of and out of his life, safely settled with a small fortune and a roof over her head, it was only ever himself and Scorpius, so it had seemed sensible to busy himself somewhere that he could be close to the boy. Unlike his own father, Draco planned to do better with Scorpius, and that included being there for him in ways Lucius had never been.

Mcgonagall had been hesitant at first, but had then agreed to the arrangement, allowing Scorpius to spend extra time in Hogsmeade so they could see each other. Over the past several months, he had won her trust and even respect, it seemed. There was never any trouble from her, at any rate, and that was all he could ask for. It was why he didn't let many people know who it was that now owned the Three Broomsticks. Even after all this time, they had an aversion to ex-Death Eaters, even ones that had been mere boys at the time, without much choice in the matter.

But now Harry Potter knew he was here, and he would surely blab to his friends, and they would make a fuss until he was kicked out or Scorpius was barred from seeing him, or some such nonsense. He didn't pretend to understand the workings of all those Gryffindor minds.

Draco thought briefly of Scorpius, tucked away upstairs, oblivious, but his mind quickly returned to Potter in his arms. _In his arms_. Merlin, he had expected to be hexed by now for his foolish show of weakness in asking Harry Potter, father of three and husband to the She-Weasel, to dance with him, Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater, former Slytherin, and all the rest of the insults Potter might care to tack on. It was infuriating to still be so enamored with the brunette after all these years, especially when it was clear Potter hadn't given him even a passing thought.

"Well, you're rather light on your feet, Potter," he murmured. "Seems you've learned something since the Yule Ball." A rather becoming flush sped across Potter's cheeks at the compliment, and Draco wondered if he was aware of just how easily read he was, like an open book complete with highlighted passages.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Draco couldn't help the small snicker that escaped at the heated response. He found that he still enjoyed making the Gryffindor Golden Boy fumble. He leaned a little closer, so they were practically breathing the same air. Still their feet moved, seemingly of their own accord, in the dimly lit room.

"It was a compliment, Potter. Perhaps you should learn to take them as gracefully as you dance." He watched as anger faded into surprise and then regret as he seemed to realize that he, Potter, was behaving quite like the prat that he normally claimed Draco was.

"Sorry." Potter flushed more deeply as Draco remained quiet, staring at him. "Look, Malfoy, I didn't exactly – " It didn't matter what came next, for then the blonde was kissing him, cutting off the words. They stopped moving, their bodies still locked together, hands clasped, the other arms wrapped around each other. They stood frozen, lips fused together, and neither of them pulled away, not even for air, until they heard a noise on the stairs.

Merlin! It was one thing for his eyes to be so extraordinary, but his lips…! It simply wasn't fair. Now to make matters even worse, Malfoy was kissing him, and he was getting a taste of those lips first hand. Harry couldn't decide what Malfoy was playing at, but he decided to enjoy it while he could. When that silver tongue that had hissed so many insults at him in the past sought entry, he allowed it without thought, and the taste became so much more.

Just when it seemed he would surely suffocate, going so long without breathing, he heard a creak like footsteps on the stairs. They both broke apart, staring at each other with wide eyes and well-snogged, swollen lips. A pale pink tongue darted out and wet those lips, and Harry wanted to groan. The creak came again, and they both realized what it had to be in the same instant, and leaped apart just as Scorpius Malfoy came into view, his hair slightly mussed and his expression one of curiosity.

Those sleepy gray eyes widened as he looked at Harry, and the Auror felt a twinge again as he remembered the praise heaped onto his shoulders by the boy. And technically by the man. He glanced toward Malfoy again, and frowned slightly when he realized the molten silver had darkened back to gray, and the shutters had come down to hide his emotions once more. For a moment, there had been something. He was sure of it.

"Harry Potter." Hearing his full name on those lips he had just kissed did wicked things to his libido, but Harry forced himself to control it, considering their audience. "This is my son, Scorpius. Scorpius…" He trailed off, and Harry felt priviledged to be allowed to see the warmth slowly seep back into the older blonde's eyes as he looked down at his blonde son. "This is the famous Auror Potter you were so worked up about."

Scorpius was still watching Harry with curiosity, surprise, and an eagerness that surprised him. "Albus talks about you sometimes. And you always tell the best stories when you come to lecture." Despite his excitement, the boy seemed to have enough self-control bred into him to remain where he stood rather than leaping toward the man he was so fascinated with. "You're one of the best Aurors the Ministry has ever had."

Harry shrugged, unable to help but dismiss the compliment. He heard a slight, faintly annoyed sound from Malfoy, but when he glanced over, those bright gray eyes were blank, though his lips were quirked slightly, as if in amusement. _Perhaps you should learn to take them as well as you dance._ Reminded of the recently-made comment, he felt himself smirking slightly, as well. Perhaps Malfoy had a point after all.

"All the Aurors do their jobs to the best of their abilities," began Harry, but Scorpius shook his head, and he could see the same smirk on those younger lips as he had often seen on the older ones.

"Father says you don't take compliments well, and you don't like being famous. He said that's why you're so good at what you do, because you aren't distracted by the spotlight." Harry felt a flood of surprise and several unidentifiable emotions rush through him as he looked quickly back at the older Malfoy, who suddenly seemed quite eager to get his son back to bed before he could ramble anymore about what had been said in the past.

"Scorpius. I thought you were in bed." The boy faltered slightly, then turned away from Harry to face his father fully.

"I was wondering where you were. You don't normally take so long to close up." He drew his arms from behind his back, and Harry grinned when he saw the wand gripped loosely by one hand. "I thought you might be in trouble and I was going to come help." Harry watched, fascinated, as Malfoy softened and drew his son into a quick, tight embrace.

"Well, thank you for the concern, but it was just Auror Potter keeping me so long with a little conversation. I'll be along shortly. Run on back up to bed." His worries eased, the boy didn't hesitate to agree and turned to go, soon trekking back up the stairs. He did, however, linger just a bit to glance at Harry one last time before going, though.

"Well, well, fatherhood looks good on you, Malfoy," said Harry with a grin. The blonde glanced at him, and seemed to sense there was no hidden animosity, no veiled jab. Just friendly teasing.

"I could say the same for you. With my parents in Azkaban and Astoria out of the picture, Scorpius is all I have. I tend to spoil him a little, hence the request to let him have extra time here in Hogsmeade with me when he can." Harry's previous annoyance at the idea had long-since vanished. If he were in a similar situation, he would want the same treatment as Malfoy.

The blonde lifted the red bag and tossed it the small space between them, laughing softly as Harry fumbled and almost dropped it. "As agreed. I'm surprised to admit it, but it's been nice seeing you, Potter. Maybe you'll come visit again during your next lecture period here."

Harry grinned, and reached for the bag, only to be caught by the hand and dragged closer. His eyes widened, and then they were kissing again, and he sank into it with a soft sound of appreciation. "Maybe I'll do that," Harry whispered when they broke apart again. Malfoy grinned.

_(So do you love it? Hate it? Have a slight affection for it, perhaps? Please, please let me know what you think! There's another chapter, but I'm struggling with it a bit. I thought I'd at least post this much and see what happened, though. Remember, this is my first attempt at Drarry, so be gentle if you hate it! Thanks so much, lovely readers!_

_3 Storm)_


	2. Chapter 2

_(Well, I'm back again with chapter 2! I don't seem to be crashing and burning with this, so I'm going to press onward and hope this chapter is received equally well. Once again, please review! It's a big help to me considering I don't have a beta, and it's hard to pick up all the things that need editing when I read it a dozen times. Enjoy!)_

"Merlin, what was I thinking last night," groaned Harry, letting his head thump forcefully against the wall. Thankfully he was alone; he didn't need the students thinking he was insane, it was bad enough that they carried the same hero-image of him as everyone else. Even bloody Draco Malfoy's son saw him in a positive light. Thinking of the blonde only increased his frustration, bringing him full circle. He had allowed himself to be totally manipulated last night. Not only had he danced with the former Slytherin, he had kissed him! Twice!

Harry's forehead dropped heavily into the stone wall once again. He doubted Malfoy had waited more than ten minutes after he left last night to report to Rita Skeeter about Harry Potter's sexual preferences. It wasn't that he was ashamed, but it was just more trouble than it was worth, and now he was going to have to face the slew of reporters and fans that would react to the news and descend like rabid dogs. Ginny would be furious, and would probably end up adding to the problem in the end. It would have been nice to settle things with his wife – future ex-wife – before having to deal with the press, but it was far too late for such regrets now.

Harry shook himself and drew up his defenses, forcing himself to forget about it for the moment. He would have time to go back to Hogsmeade and confront the other man later, once he was done talking with the Defense classes today. Until then, he owed it to the students to focus on them, not on the infuriating blonde living above the Three Broomsticks.

Harry pushed open the classroom door he had been hovering in front of for the last ten minutes, immediately sending the room into a buzz of whispers as he moved to the front of the room, speaking barely three words to the professor in greeting. He had been distracted all over again immediately by the sight of blonde hair and black bent so close together near the back of the room. Albus seemed to be speaking animatedly to Scorpius, waving one hand slightly, but they weren't arguing. To his surprise, the boys were acting like friends.

Filing away the information for later, he forced his gaze to roam the rest of the classroom, taking in the eager faces staring back at him. With a mental sigh, he launched into the lecture, deciding that it was going to be a very long day.

"Bloody hell," muttered Draco for the hundredth time, "What was I _thinking_ last night." He had kissed Harry bloody Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World. He, a former Death Eater. Salazar, as soon as the news got out he would be run clear out of Europe. And he'd had the audacity to ask for a dance first, of all things. It was completely beside the point that he had seen Potter at a Ministry function or two, and had reluctantly admired the Auror's form, in more ways than one. It seemed someone, probably the She-Weasel, had arranged for Potter to have some dancing lessons, and it seemed they had definitely paid off.

But nevermind the romanticism of what he had done, Potter obviously would be overlooking it when he reported the deeds as malicious and had him punished for tainting the Chosen Hero. He would want to completely forget how warm it had been in the room, especially when their bodies had been close together, and how right it had felt to be moving in time to a music they had both seemed to hear, as neither of them had tripped or stumbled. It was better to ignore how bright and green Potter's eyes had been, how pinked his cheeks had been from the cold outside.

Draco forced himself to put the images seared into his brain aside for the moment. It was bad enough that he had forced his stupid crush on his old nemesis, but Potter was married to the She-Weasel! Not only was he off the market, he was straight! Whatever insanity had possessed them both last night, it wouldn't completely change that fact, no matter how Draco might will it to be otherwise. Potter could never be his, period.

Downstairs, he heard the heavy thud of the door being slammed open, and he winced. It seemed the lectures at the school were finished, and Harry… er, Potter, that is, had come to confront him about the night before. Resigned to his fate, he left his bedroom and moved to the top of the stairs, hearing the familiar voice calling, "Malfoy!"

_Just once, it might be nice to hear him call me Draco,_ mused the blonde as he descended the stairs. His mask was in place by the time the well-known messy black hair came into view, pacing in front of the fireplace, which was yet unlit. There were no customers yet, and so he saw no need for it since he was upstairs anyway. The room was cool, especially after having a fresh breeze sweep through with the open door. Draco shivered lightly and stuck his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Potter." He whirled around to face him, several emotions racing across his face in quick succession: surprise, pleasure, anger. The anger seemed to win, because those brilliant green eyes were narrowed as he stalked closer, still gorgeous even when he looked mad enough to hex Draco into next week, possibly even next year.

"Look, Malfoy, I don't know what you were playing at last night, but I'm not interested in having my name dragged through the mud. So whatever your plans are, forget it." Draco scoffed; he simply couldn't help himself.

"Please, Potter. If anyone were going to suffer scandal over what happened last night, it would be me." It was interesting to watch confusion wash over the brunette's face. Clearly he had no idea how difficult it was to lead a normal life from the losing side of the war. Yes, technically the Malfoy family had defected at the last and aided in a small way in the defeat of Voldemort, but that was hardly enough to save them.

"Surely you've noticed that anyone with a Dark Mark doesn't go to St. Mungo's anymore, or attempt to attend Quidditch matches without some disguise. It's rather like leprosy, I suppose," mused Draco, watching as confusion transformed into something much more volatile. "Don't act so surprised. Why else would I hide the fact that I now own the Three Broomsticks? If anyone knew a Malfoy was in charge of it, it would be shut down in a week's time; no one would want to eat food prepared by a former Death Eater."

Harry opened his mouth – Potter, not Harry; it wouldn't do to be on a first name basis with the ignorant Gryffindor – but then shut it again, apparently distracted from his original rant by something else he had said. "You prepare the food yourself?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Of all things to take from what I just said, of course you pick up on that. I obviously can't do it alone, but I do have a hand in it when I have the time, yes."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say. He'd come back down to the Three Broomsticks intent on foiling Malfoy's plan before it could be completed, only to apparently discover that there was none. It was a little disconcerting to have so wrongly judged the man standing in front of him with his hands in his pockets, watching him warily with those cool gray eyes. He hadn't noticed it yesterday, but his hair was longer than before. Last night it had been pulled back in a short ponytail, but today it was loose, framing the blonde's attractive face rather angelically.

Such thoughts were dangerous, but Harry found it was growing harder and harder to control them. Ever since last night he had been on edge, thinking about the Slytherin in increasingly inappropriate ways. Like how good it might feel to kiss him again, to slide his hands under the man's shirt and explore all that pale skin. To drag him upstairs and put the bed he knew was up there to good use.

"Malfoy…" The blonde didn't intend to give him a chance to speak, rolling right over whatever it was Harry intended to say, not that even he was quite sure what it was.

"I was going to contact you myself today to ask the same thing of you. I can't afford to be found out. I need to be here for Scorpius, and I'm willing to buy your silence in whatever way necessary." There was a determined light in Malfoy's eyes. Harry enjoyed seeing any emotion reflected there, they were so often expressionless and cold, shutting out everyone around him. Harry realized it was the blonde's defense mechanism. Keep everyone out, and you don't get hurt. Considering what he'd said about the treatment of Death Eaters even so long after the war, he could understand the man's thinking.

Normally, Harry would have reassured the blonde that his secret was safe and let that be the end of it. But Malfoy's offer of virtually anything to buy his silence was tempting. After all, Malfoy had done the same to him last night to get Lily's bag back, hadn't he? It was only fair to return the favor. An eye for an eye, and all that.

"_Whatever_ way necessary, Malfoy?" asked Harry goadingly. That sharp chin jerked up an inch in challenge, and Harry wanted to grin. He was still as stubborn and proud as he'd ever been in school. The familiar trait, mixed in with all these unfamiliar feelings, helped to steady him. It was the same Malfoy, just all grown up.

"Within reason," the blonde finally relented, though that obstinate look was still sparking like fire in those stormy gray eyes.

"Answer me this first," said Harry. "Why did you make me dance with you last night for the bag?" There were so many other sinister things the blonde could have chosen, or humiliating ones if that had been his intention. But instead he had insisted on a dance. It just didn't fit with everything else he knew about Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy's eyes widened, and his adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed. Harry's eyes followed the movement, and he wondered briefly what it would taste like if he licked him there. This growing fascination with Malfoy was getting to be a bit out of control, but he found he was enjoying it. It was clear Malfoy wanted no more to do with the press than he did. There would be no danger of him running to Rita Skeeter or anyone else with stories of things that happened between them, _should_ anything even happen, that is.

"Tell me the truth or the deal's off," said Harry, and he watched as Malfoy stiffened, his fists obviously clenching where they were still buried in the man's pockets.

"I just wanted to," Malfoy finally muttered, looking to the side. It send his blonde hair swaying gently across his face before coming to rest, masking the man's gaze from his. Harry smirked, and moved closer.

"So you _wanted_ to dance with me." Anger brightened the dull gray eyes as his head whipped back around to see him, just as lust had the night before, so they were molten and alive with feeling. Harry relished in being allowed to see what most others were denied, even if it was anger, of all things.

"Yes, Potter," he sneered, "I said so, didn't I? If you're to know the whole truth as you insisted, you might as well truly have the whole of it. I _wanted_ to dance with you. I _wanted_ to kiss you. I _want_ to take you upstairs and hear you scream my name." Harry swallowed hard and took a step back. It seemed he had pushed Malfoy just a tad too far.

Malfoy stalked him like an experienced predator, making Harry think of a panther slinking closer and closer until Harry's back was to the wall, literally. This was what had happened last night. Malfoy had taken control and things had gotten out of hand. He wasn't sure whether to be excited or concerned that it seemed to be happening all over again.

Those pale, elegant hands brushed over his chest and skimmed up to his throat, skipping ever so lightly across his jaw line before cupping his chin and forcing him to look up those couple of inches into the blonde's eyes. "Say my name, _Harry_." He practically purred Harry's name, sending a shiver running down his spine.

"Draco," said Harry, squirming slightly in place. The smirk that curved the man's lips was almost worth it. "Listen, Mal – " He cut himself off quickly as Malfoy's – no, Draco's – hands roughly caught his shirt and closed what little space there was left between them. The glint in the blonde's eyes had him swallowing back the words, as did the tongue that was quickly invading his mouth, not that he put up much resistance.

It was more like a battle than a kiss, both of them struggling to exert some kind of control over the other. Harry's hands groped for something to hang onto and locked onto Draco's robes, hauling the slightly taller man even closer still. It was like being devoured. There was a moan, but Harry couldn't tell which of them had done it.

Harry struggled to remember why he had actually come to the Three Broomsticks, and forced his mouth away from Draco's. He used his grip on the blonde's robes to switch their positions so that Harry was now in control, pinning Draco to the wall. "_Why_ did you want… all those things?" asked Harry breathlessly, unable to bring himself to repeat them, especially the last. Draco looked thoroughly ravished, his robes rumpled and his lips swollen.

"Merlin, if you can't figure it out for yourself, you're as hopeless as I always suspected you were back in school." Harry's eyes narrowed. Draco was watching him seriously, braced as if for a blow of some sort. Harry wasn't sure at all what to make of it.

"But you married… what's her name, Astrid." Draco laughed harshly.

"Her name was Astoria. And what about you, you're still married to the She-Weasel, aren't you? Clearly that's got nothing to do with this." Harry fumbled for a second, uncertain.

"And just what is… this." He watched as hurt and fury flashed through those gray eyes before they went blank once more, hiding the blonde's feelings yet again. "Damn it, would you stop that?" he said angrily, interrupting what would probably have been a classic Malfoy tirade.

"Stop what?" demanded Draco.

"Stop blocking me out like that!" Harry raked his fingers through his hair as surprise flitted across the blonde's face. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to talk to you when you keep cutting off all your emotions like that?"

"Why the bloody hell do you want to talk to me anyway, then?" snapped Draco, shoving past him to pace away from an infuriated Harry. "Salazar, you can be so oblivious sometimes. Just what, exactly, do _you_ think this is?" he asked, waving a hand between them now that they were several feet away from each other.

Harry faltered. "Well, at first I thought you were going to try and cause me trouble by selling some ridiculous story to Rita Skeeter or something, but earlier you said…" He shook his head. "I don't think that's what this is anymore. But that's why I came here, to figure it out. Because I don't know." He glanced up at Malfoy and saw that he was being carefully considered by those stormy gray eyes. "I just know that divorcing Ginny is going to be bad enough, so if you are planning to cause trouble somehow, for once in your life just not be a prat and wait until I've recovered from that fiasco before you start another."

Harry was pleased to note that there was pure shock written on the face of the gaping Draco Malfoy. "You and the She-Weasel are getting a divorce?" he asked, clearly having expected any number of things, but definitely not this.

Harry shrugged. "Her name is Ginny. And it would be a little difficult to stay married to her considering I recently discovered I prefer men. Or did you not catch onto that part," he added with a grin. Draco smirked.

"I did, in fact. Which is rather convenient since I feel the same." At Harry's surprised look, Draco snorted. "Astoria was a marriage of convenience to produce an heir. She knew it from the start, and agreed to it eagerly. She made sure she was well compensated before she left, but she never looked back, I can assure you. What, did you really think I would go through all this for a grudge that started over two decades ago?" Put like that, it did seem rather ridiculous, but Harry had needed to ask. He had needed to be sure.

"So, we both like men. You're single, and I'm… working on it." Harry tried to ignore the smirk that curved Draco's lips. "Where does that leave us?"

Draco considered him for a moment. "I believe it leaves us as two men who were never quite friends before, but not quite enemies when we last spoke. Men that are gay, as you so cleverly pointed out," he added with a smirk that had Harry scowling at him again. "Men that perhaps should let bygones be bygones and just… see what happens."

It was a sound argument, Harry had to admit. "Never quite friends?" he echoed, shaking his head. "Malfoy, we – " The pointed look the taller man sent him had him backtracking. "Sorry. Draco. We were never friends at all."

Once again, emotion fluttered briefly over the blonde's face. It pleased him to learn he was getting better and better at reading the other man. Draco Malfoy was definitely not one share what he felt unless it was absolutely necessary. It sent a little wave of amazement through him to realize that he had never really seen the blonde act overly emotional except for during their confrontations at school. Otherwise, the Slytherin boy had always seemed cool and aloof from everyone, friend and foe alike.

"You were never friends with me. You never even gave me a chance," pointed out Draco. "But I wanted to be friends with you. I was hurt that first day when you rejected me. After that there was always so much friction between us, and then with the Dark Lord…" He shook his head, but Harry had seen the fear that had his eyes going just a bit too wide, his face a shade too pale. "He lived in our house. Merlin, I'll never be able to live there again without seeing him."

Draco forced himself to put it aside and continue. "And then there you were, you and Granger and Weasley. I knew it was you despite whatever it was you did to your face. The others, they weren't sure, but I knew right away. I knew I couldn't let them have you. You were the only chance we had of ever defeating him. You would have been killed that very night if you hadn't managed to escape."

Thinking back, Harry knew he wasn't exaggerated. They could have all three died that night, at a single word from Draco. But he had protected them, as best he could. "The wands?" he asked, remembering what had come after. Draco's cheeks became just the slightest shade of pink. It was much better than that fear-induced shade of white.

"I was hardly trying to keep them from you, but I knew if I didn't put up even a token struggle _I'd_ have been the one that ended up dead. It was bad enough to be in trouble for not correctly identifying you." Harry disliked the idea of Draco being punished for protecting them. "And then you saved my life in the Room of Requirement. I knew you still considered us enemies, but you could have left me there and you didn't. I've never forgotten that."

Harry shrugged, feeling the familiar unease with such praising words. "I was just – " Draco smiled slightly, a real smile rather than a smirk. It was the first time he had truly seen the other man smile. He looked every bit as angelic as Harry had thought before.

"Yes, I know. You were just doing the right thing. Ever the Gryffindor." Draco glanced around and shivered, realizing it had grown dark outside and the temperature was dropping rapidly. He pulled out his wand and had a fire burning in the hearth with a quick, wordless spell. He dropped into a chair close to the fireplace and signaled for Harry to do the same. "So, we agree. We'll try to see what can be done about… this." He gestured between them again, provoking a laugh from Harry at the look on the blonde's face.

"Agreed," said Harry with a nod, dropping into the chair across from Draco. "So, now what?"

Draco's lips lifted into his familiar smirk. "We could try talking. About something other than the past." Both of them thought for a moment about what might be a safe subject to discuss.

"Did you know our sons are friends?" asked Harry after a few minutes of quiet. Draco nodded, leaning back in his chair slightly.

"Scorpius has been helping Albus with his Potions. He's as good as I ever was, perhaps even better." A small smile brightened Draco's face. Children were an excellent subject to settle on, since both men were obviously crazy about their kids. "They come in here together from time to time and I make sure they can have a table alone to work or talk as they please. And they usually have drinks, on the house, of course."

Draco paused for a moment. "They're so like us, physically I mean. It's almost eerie," he murmured. It was like seeing how things could have been, if they had grown up in an age without a war, without a Dark Lord.

Harry nodded in agreement. "I saw them today while I was lecturing Defense classes. They were sitting together. It made me think of how Ron and I used to be in school. Despite the fact that they're in the two Houses that have always had the fiercest rivalry…" Draco chuckled softly.

"I think part of that had to do with the times rather than the Houses, Harry. Things are a bit more relaxed here than they ever were when we were in school. It helps that they're not both on the Quidditch team like we were." Harry laughed, remembering. He had always considered Draco his biggest rival in all ways, including Quidditch. The blonde had been the best Seeker he had ever gone against, even though he had never lost to him. It had made the games much more interesting to have such a challenging opponent.

"Albus isn't very outgoing. He prefers to take things a bit more sedately. But James loves being on the team. Being a Beater gives him an excuse to play rough. And next year, Lily might try out." Draco shrugged, smiling a bit at the description of the older Potter child. Apparently James was a bit more active than his younger siblings. Sometimes he wished he had stuck it out with Astoria to have a second child. But he wasn't stupid, he was lucky to have Scorpius, and he was content with the single son.

"Scorpius enjoys being the Slytherin Keeper. He's much happier watching the action and guarding the goal than getting into the thick of it on the field. And he's good at it. Slytherin has been doing good this year. I think they're neck and neck with Gryffindor for the win." Harry smirked.

"I'm sure James will help Gryffindor pull through." Draco snorted.

"Not likely. Scorpius will keep them from scoring and give the Seeker time to catch the Snitch way before the Gryffindor's Seeker could." There was no animosity in the teasing, which still felt odd for Harry. He kept getting the odd feeling that there was something wrong with this picture. He and Draco Malfoy were sitting together and having a civil conversation about their children, shortly following a conversation about their mutual attraction to one another.

"Harry." The brunette blinked, bringing his companion back into focus. Draco was watching him closely. He stood after a moment, a decision apparently made. "Would you care for another dance?"

It seemed too good to be true. Harry was sitting here across from him, admitting to being gay, roundaboutly admitting to being attracted to him, and agreeing to try and become friends and possibly more. Things like this didn't happen to former Death Eaters. But Draco wasn't about to push at the other man and possibly ruin everything. He was just going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Draco waited, hand outstretched, for Harry to make a decision. He had a sense of déjà vu, like they were back in their first year at Hogwarts, and Draco was waiting for him to decide whether or not they would be friends. He suddenly feared that history would repeat itself and began to retract his hand, fearing another rejection.

Harry's hand whipped out and grabbed his, halting his retreat. "Yes." Their eyes locked, green on gray, and Hary came to his feet. The two men stared at each other for a moment, teetering on the edge of something neither of them fully understood. Then Draco took a step closer, and pulled Harry to him. "You never really answered my question earlier," said Harry, staring up just a bit at the slightly taller man. Draco arched a brow and Harry laughed. "You did, but not like I expected. Why did you want to dance with me, of all things, after all this time?"

Draco flushed slightly, but it didn't seem quite as difficult to admit with Harry in his arms again, without being coerced like the night before. "When's the first time you remember seeing me since we left school?" Harry's brow furrowed, but Draco was insistent. "Answer me and it'll help you understand my answer even more."

Harry still didn't understand, but he was willing to go along with it. "At the train, when Albus was leaving for his first year here at Hogwarts." Draco nodded, as if he had been expecting as much.

"I'd seen you a few times before then, at Ministry functions. People still might not like people like me, but that won't stop them from trying to convince us to fund their little pet projects." Their feet were moving almost without thought, allowing them to speak without having to worry about their rhythm. It was like they were made for each other. As much as Draco hated to get sappy like a Hufflepuff, it was true. "Anyway, I saw you there a few times. Dancing. You were wearing dress robes, and you looked very… uncomfortable. I couldn't help but think there were a dozen places you would preferred to be than there."

Harry nodded, then shrugged. "Ever since the war, I've tried to stay out of the spotlight. I've had enough fame to last a lifetime. I do what I have to as an Auror to help people, and I endure the publicity from that. I don't like to attend the Galas and parties the Ministry likes to throw. They're crowded and usually about politics that I just don't give a damn about."

Draco could understand that. "It made me wonder if it was the dancing you were uncomfortable with, or the whole thing in general. You seemed much better at it than you were at Hogwarts, not that I saw too much of you dancing there." And he'd wondered if the man would be graceful or clumsy, if he could move lightly on his feet or if he would shuffle through like an insufferable clod. Clearly, though, the brunette had proven he could handle himself.

"And have I met your standards, Draco?" asked Harry with a smile, head tilting slightly as he considered his partner.

Draco grinned, and Harry was stunned by the transformation of pure happiness on the blonde's face for that moment. "Clearly, or I'd never have asked for a repeat performance." Harry snorted, but he was secretly pleased that the blonde was impressed with him.

"When do you plan to return to Hogwarts again?" Draco bit his lip, but too late to stop the errant question from slipping out.

"Well, normally I only lecture every now and then, maybe once or twice before the Christmas holidays, then same thing goes before they break for summer." Draco deflated slightly. Four times a year at most. That was hardly conducive to cultivating a relationship. "However, I might be inclined to visit more often if I had a good reason."

Draco's head shot up, the beginnings of hope lighting up his eyes. Harry grinned, and Draco relaxed into a smirk. "Well, I'm sure I could think of something," he murmured, and pulled Harry's mouth down to his.

_(All right, how'd I do with this one? I was considering a third chapter, but it would be an epilogue if anything. No need to beat a dead horse, and I believe I've squeezed all the fluff from this I can without breaking from character. Which means it's time to find a new inspiration. I hope everyone that reads approves. Review and let me know what you think, please! If you have any ideas for future stories, I'm open to those, as well. ^^ Until next time, lovely readers._

_3 Storm)_


	3. Epilogue

_(Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You guys and your comments are what brighten my day and keep me writing. Here's a fluffy bit of closure for my first story, so that I can focus on You and Me for a while. It's a fair bit shorter than the previous chapters, but it is an epilogue. ^^)_

"Dad. _Dad_." Harry blinked, his story – and his train of thought – completely interrupted. He looked across the table at Lily, who was looking exasperated with him. "You've told us that story like a thousand times," she reminded him patiently, her arms crossed over her chest. "We know that one by heart at this point."

James grinned, looking from his sister to his father. "Dad always tells that story around this time of the year. He's feeling sentimental." Harry flicked a small bit of carrot at his oldest child, but he was grinning, too, despite the blush heating his cheeks.

"Well, it's one of _my_ favorite stories," said Draco with a smirk, leaning back in his chair studying his family, wondering once again how he had ever gotten so lucky. James flicked the carrot at his stepfather, but a wordless wave of Draco's wand had it quickly repelled back toward the boy, nailing him in the forehead.

"One day you have to teach me how you do that without a spell," complained James, rubbing his forehead. Draco's smirk grew.

"Maybe one day."

Scorpius shifted in his chair, glancing around the table. It still seemed odd to have so many people there, and most of them rambunctious and loud. It had never been like this when it had been just him and his father. Even when his mother had still been around, it had always been quiet and a relatively quick affair. Now everyone talked at once and they could lose track of time and be sitting at the table for an hour, sometimes even more. He was beginning to enjoy it quite a lot. He especially enjoyed all the extra time he got to spend with Albus.

"Dad." Salazar, the word felt odd on his tongue. But it was how their family worked. Harry was Dad, and Draco was Father. Harry looked at Scorpius, smiling encouragingly. The Potter children had taken to their new Malfoy family very quickly, but Scorpius was adapting more slowly to the changes. Harry tried to do all he could to make the boy feel comfortable, but it was a work in progress sort of thing.

"Could you tell us why Mr. Weasley always calls my father a ferret?" The older blonde choked on his drink and Harry patted his back helpfully, laughing.

"I don't think Draco likes that idea. It's a bit of a sore spot for him. But I don't see why I couldn't tell you anyway." Draco glared at him, his steely gaze promising vengeance later. Harry looked forward to it.

"Your Father was a prat in school. He was mean and he liked to make fun of me and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione all the time. We made fun of him, too, of course, but he always started it." Draco sniffed.

"Not always."

Harry grinned and waved aside his complaints. "I'm telling the story here. Anyway, so there was a new professor that year, Mad-Eye Moody." He didn't see any reason to delve into the complicated events surrounding 'Moody's, presence at the school. The kids didn't need to know that it was Barty Crouch, Jr. pretending to be Moody. That story was for another time. "And he was walking by when your Father and I were arguing one time… what was it about again?"

Draco smirked. "My father and I were betting on how long you would last in the tournament. My money was on you lasting longer, if you recall." Harry rolled his eyes. Trust Draco Malfoy to remember details like that after so many years.

"Anyway, your Father and I were arguing, and I turned to walk away and your Father got out his wand. Whatever were you planning to do to me, by the way?" Draco merely arched a brow and remained silent this time. Harry made a mental note to ask again later, when they were alone. It was obviously something serious to refrain from mentioning it in front of the kids. That, or Draco was just messing with his head. Either way.

"Well, Moody saw it and he got really angry. It's really poor sportsmanship to hit someone with a hex from behind. So he stopped your Father from hexing my by turning him into a white ferret, then he – " Draco interrupted, squeezing a little more forcefully than necessary with the hand perched on his husband's knee.

"I think that's enough of that story," he said firmly, his gaze daring Harry to press onward. On any other night, Harry would have. But it was nearly Christmas, and he was in a good mood. And he knew if he completely humiliated the blonde by finishing the tale the whole evening would be ruined because he would spend the rest of the night sulking. He would simply have to finish it later.

"Father?" Draco looked over at Lily, a smile immediately curving his lips, completely banishing the stern look of a mere moment before.

"Yes, darling?" Harry smirked at the adoring tone. Draco had fallen hard for Lily from the very first time he had formally met her. He blatantly spoiled the girl at every opportunity now that she was his daughter, and Lily didn't mind exploiting her new father's generosity. Harry tried to control them as best he could, but whenever they went out shopping alone they always came back having spent far more than they should. Lily was a Daddy's girl, and Draco played right along with it. Harry couldn't have been happier. Sometimes.

"Maybe you could tell the story of when you proposed to Dad." She sighed romantically. "_That's_ the very best story of all."

James snickered. "You could probably tell it yourself. You know it by heart; you make them tell it so many times, especially at Christmas."

Lily stuck out her tongue at her oldest brother. "But Father tells it the best," she explained, and smiled sweetly at Draco. The man simply couldn't refuse, especially when she looked at him like that. He was a sucker for a sweet smile from his darling Lily.

"Of course, darling. Anything for you." Every other male at the table rolled their eyes. They were all thankfully immune to Lily's charms.

Draco cleared his throat. "Well, your Dad didn't visit much at first, even though he promised he would. He came by just a few times each semester, usually whenever he had lectures, just to talk and maybe flirt a little, if I was lucky." He winked at Harry, who blushed, and had all the kids laughing a little. They enjoyed seeing their fathers so happy together. There had never been flirting at the dinner table before, for any of them. "It didn't take me long to fall in love with him. I'd had a crush on him in school, you see, and once I really got to know him it just grew from there, like a neglected flower that was finally being tended as it deserved."

Lily sighed softly, heart fluttering at the romance of it, while her older brother scoffed softly but didn't interrupt. Albus and Scorpius shared a quick glance, and then quickly looked away again. Their knees brushed under the table.

"Your Dad was always suspicious of me, at first. I'd buy him gifts, and he'd want to know what the occasion was, or what I wanted from him, what favor I might possibly be trying to bribe him for. He was really rather hopeless, I must admit. Completely unromantic." Harry bristled, as always, even though the blonde said the same thing every time he told the bloody story. He simply couldn't help it.

"I can be romantic!" he insisted. Draco smiled at him indulgently, causing his spouse's irritation to spike even higher.

"Of course, Harry. As I was saying," he continued, smirking at his husband's pout, "your Dad simply refused to let it go as a simple gift without a reason. He poked and questioned and harassed until I figured out something to tell him that would satisfy him, or I managed to distract him." James grinned and made obnoxious kissing noises until somebody threw another carrot at him to shut him up. "I suppose we'd been dating, if that's what you want to call it, for about six months when I finally decided I wanted to marry your Dad."

Harry blushed as Draco glanced over at him, lifting his hand so their matching golden bands glittered in the light overhead, and kissed his knuckles tenderly. Lily sighed again, and this time Albus flicked a pea at her and he and Scorpius chuckled over it while she glared at them around James. Harry couldn't find it in him to scold them with Draco's story mellowing his mood so completely, but he did attempt a stern glance at the boys, though it probably would only work for a few moments before they started stirring up trouble again.

"Of course, I knew he'd be as stubborn about agreeing to that as he had been about everything else, so I knew I had to plan it just right. I made sure he didn't have any plans, and I called your Dad to come and meet me. It was Christmas Eve, and he was annoyed at me because he'd been in the middle of poring over another case that he knew would still be there after the holidays for him to obsess over. Now, being the wonderful and giving person I am, I tried to help him relax." He ignored the giggles that followed this statement, his attention focused on Harry. The fierce emotion shining there had Harry's breath catching in his throat.

"I poured him a little wine, I had prepared his favorite food, and I tried to rub some of the tension out of his shoulders. I was a very sweet and helpful boyfriend. But your Dad was determined to complain and stay miserable, and he seemed determined to make me miserable, too. But I had a plan, and Malfoys always stick to the plan, even in the face of stubborn Gryffindors. So I told your dear old Dad to shut the bloody hell up and let me speak for five minutes without him interrupting me to whine about something or other."

Harry flushed again, knowing it was true and despising himself for his actions that night, but his attention was as focused on the story as the children's was, even though he had actually been there. Lily was right; Draco told this story the best.

"Well, he listened to me, for once." More giggles as Draco glanced at Harry with a small smile. "And I got down on one knee, right there in the Three Broomsticks. I could have cared less whether it was empty or at full capacity. All I cared about was your Dad. I pulled this ring out of the pocket in my robes, and I took his hand in mine." Their fingers laced as Draco's smile grew, just a little. "By then your Dad was quite speechless anyway, and I was losing my nerve because he looked so shocked to see me there, proposing."

Draco squeezed Harry's hand. "And I asked him, 'Harry James Potter,' I said, 'Will you make me the happiest bloke in all of Europe and marry me?'"

Harry smiled. "But I couldn't have let him win that easily. Your Father was too used to getting what he wanted. I knew I had to make him work for it." Draco grinned, and the blonde's face lit up. Harry felt privileged, as usual, to be allowed to see such a depth of emotion on the face of the usually controlled man. He was only ever like this when they were alone, or with the children. Never in front of anyone else.

"This is the best part," whispered Lily, and nobody hushed her or argued with her. They were, as usual, captivated by the joint telling of the story that had brought their little family together. Every time they told it, they always ended it this way. It wasn't planned, it just always seemed to work out that way. And it really added to the story, so nobody ever complained.

"So I stood up." Harry rubbed his thumb in a gentle caress over the back of his husband's hand.

"And I was terrified he was going to walk out on me."

"I took his other hand in mine."

"Merlin, my heart beat so fast I thought it would leap clear out of my chest."

"I put down the ring on the table beside us."

"I was going to get angry if he didn't say something soon."

"And I told him we could only get married on one condition."

"I would have promised him anything at that point."

"And we danced."

_(I couldn't bring myself to write anymore. It's simply too perfect just to end it there. It's just the feel I wanted. I hope you guys feel the same, and again I'm sorry it's so much shorter than the other chapters. Please review! I'm working on the next chapter of You and Me now that I have this fluffy fic off my chest.)_


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